Dust of Snow (23 page)

I pushed aside the slight stab of doubt.
David was an asshole and if Curly was hurt… I couldn’t even think
that far.

“Here comes Carl,” Ash said as he finished up
and pushed away from my desk.

I groaned. Ashley dragged me close, cast a
quick glance around, and bent me back over his arm, kissing me like
I was Scarlett O’Hara. Somewhere in the maze of cubicles someone
wolf whistled.

“When you’re done making sweet love to your
man, in my office, Mr. Peck,” Carl said.

“You’re incorrigible,” I complained when
Ashley put me back on my feet. I was glad he held on for a bit,
because I felt a little lightheaded. “I’ll have to look at his smug
face for the whole briefing now.”

“You love it,” Ashley said, eyes
twinkling.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Yes, I do. Now off you
go. And let me know what your dad says.”

Ash pecked me on the nose and strode off
toward his office. I watched his tailor-fitted pants walk away
until they were out of sight.

“Right,” I said, closing Carl’s office door
behind me. “I have those contracts you asked for ready; do you want
to read through them before I send them off?” But Carl wasn’t going
to be derailed. I could already tell by the way he was grinning at
me.

“For a moment there, I was worried, Gregory,”
he said. And God, those rolling Rs never got old. “I thought you’d
keep pining in solitude for our Mr. Montgomery instead of, how do
you Americans say it? Jumping his bones? I’m very glad you chose
the latter option.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I
said primly, and Carl sulked at me.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You’re no fun. Show me
the contracts.”

When I left Carl’s office there was a message
waiting on my phone.

Supply closet @ 10?

Even though my asshole ex-boyfriend had
kidnapped my cat, I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.

“What’s going to happen to David?” I asked
Ashley that night, wrapped around him on his couch. I’d called and
e-mailed David, but had gotten no response, and if something didn’t
happen by tomorrow, I’d involve the police after all. We hadn’t
heard anything from Ashley’s father. I couldn’t stop thinking about
Curlywurly.

“Are you worried about him?” Ashley asked,
eyes still on the detective series playing on TV. But his eyebrows
drew down in a sharp V.

“I guess. I don’t know. I don’t want him to
actually get hurt or anything. Does it bother you?” I
countered.

Ashley opened his mouth immediately, and then
slowly closed it again. “A bit. You guys have a lot of history
together. Maybe it bothers me more than I realize.”

I stroked Ashley’s cheek, his stubble rough
and delicious against my palm. “I don’t think about him because I
miss him, or want him,” I said softly. “I’m worried he’s going to
do something crazy.”

Ashley pushed up on one arm, and I sat up.
Looked like our romantic cuddling time was over.

“You said he wouldn’t harm Curly.”

“I’m pretty sure he won’t, but if you’d asked
me if he’d ever kidnap a cat over some junk he didn’t care about,
I’d have said no too. This whole revenge thing with your dad,
though… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Do you want me to call off my dad? It might
be too late by now.”

“I don’t know, Ash.” I covered my face and he
slung an arm over my shoulder.

“We could just go over there and get Curly
back.”

I nodded. “I don’t have his address though.
Let me e-mail him and offer to pay for the stuff I threw out.”

“I don’t think you owe him even that, but
I’ll leave it up to you.” With a squeeze of my shoulder he headed
toward the kitchen. “I’ll text Dad now.”

I sent my e-mail and followed. “I should
probably go,” I told him.

Ashley stopped pouring a glass of wine.
“You’re going home?”

“I should be there, in case he turns up with
Curly.” I hated going home to the empty house where Curly’s
scratching post and food bowls waited, but I’d be restless here all
night too.

“I don’t want you to face him by yourself,”
Ashley said stubbornly, and I pulled him into a hug.

“I can handle him fine.” I leaned back and
kissed him softly.

“I know that,” Ashley said. “I saw you with
Frank, remember? There’s just something about him… He has a certain
hold over you, Gregory. Whether you want to admit it or not. Your
past makes you vulnerable to him.”

I bit my tongue. When he said things like
that, it made me feel defensive. I hated to think he saw me as
frail. “Like I said, I can handle it.” My tone was sharp.

Ashley gave me a sheepish look. “I know. I’m
sorry. You can’t blame me for worrying when I’m going to be in Ann
Arbor all day tomorrow. They’re predicting a bad storm, so I might
have to get a hotel.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. One of our clients is freaking out
about holiday revenue being down. I’ve got to go hold his hand and
remind him we won’t get final numbers for months. I thought I
forwarded you the e-mail?”

“Right. You did. Sorry—I’ve been distracted
about Curly all day.” I pushed away the thought and painted on a
smile. “Holding his hand, huh?”

Ash chuckled. “Not literally.” He took my
hand tightly. “Your hand’s the only one I’m interested in.”

My heart skipped. “I do have certain talents.
And for the record… ditto. Only you.”

He rubbed our noses together. “I’ll miss
you.”

I tightened my arms around him. “I’m going to
miss you too. But you know what they say about absence.”

“It’s not my heart that’s going to be doing
the growing,” Ashley growled in my ear, and he pushed me up against
the kitchen island. I hung on and tried to forget about everything
else.

By morning I could think of nothing but
getting my cat back. I’d tried to be patient and hope that David
would come to his senses, but clearly that wasn’t happening. I
still didn’t think David would actually harm Curly, but… I stopped
pacing my living room in the predawn long enough to grab my
antacids.

So help me, if he dared hurt one hair on
Curly’s fluffy head, I would kill him myself. No CIA assassins
necessary. My nostrils flared, and I concentrated on breathing
deeply. I hadn’t slept and it was too late now, so I might as well
go into work early and be productive.

Patricia had a big grin on her face when she
hurried toward my desk a few hours later.

“Guess what,” she
mock-whispered—unnecessarily since Carl was out for a meeting and
at least half the staff had taken the week off.

“You’re taking me away from here and we’re
going to get drunk.”

Patricia looked at the ceiling for a minute,
tapping her chin. “Tempting, but no. Yesterday there was coffee on
my desk. I thought it was you, but today I realized you’d never
leave me
this
.” She held out a ticket for a hockey game.
“It’s my
team
,” she practically squealed. “And there was a
note saying my mysterious admirer has the other ticket.”

I put on my most innocent expression. “Who
are they from?” Truthfully I knew full well they were from Sonny in
HR. He’d had a crush on Patricia forever, and even though he really
shouldn’t have given Ash my address, I figured he could use a few
tips on the best way to Patricia’s heart. In the last few weeks I’d
realized she was a big hockey fan.

“I don’t know,” Patricia said slowly, making
a
duh
face. “Hence the
mysterious
? I’m about to find
out, I guess. Or wait, what if it’s a total psychopath? What if
this is a ruse to kidnap me and have his wicked way with me. Wait…
that doesn’t sound so terrible either.”

“Yes it
does
,” I hissed, and then I
rolled my eyes because clearly I knew who they were from. “No
psychopaths have access to this building, so I think you’re
fine.”

“Your ex got in,” Patricia said with a
pointed eyebrow. She winced. “I’m really sorry about not telling
you the minute I found out.”

“It’s okay.” Ugh, the reminder of David made
my blood boil and stomach churn in unison.

“I guess I was hoping it would turn out
wonderfully romantic. Although I should have realized about you and
Ashley.” She leaned in. “Speaking of which—”

“
Anyway
, let me assure you that you’ll
be perfectly safe to go on this mystery date. Not to mention you’ll
be surrounded by hundreds of people, including security
guards.”

“So you know who it is? You do, don’t you?
No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. It would ruin the
romance.” Patricia’s enthusiasm returned with a vengeance and she
almost crushed the ticket to her chest. “Yes, I’m so gonna go.
Thanks, Gregory.” She blew me a kiss and wandered off.

My cell phone rang and my palms grew sweaty
when I saw it was David. Glancing around quickly, I slipped into
Carl’s office and answered. I faced the dark wooden door and tried
to resist the urge to punch it.

“Greg? It’s me. David.” Silence. My nerves
were shot and I had no idea what to say, but he went on after a few
seconds. “Listen, I know you’re mad. Really mad. I shouldn’t have
taken Curly. That was a total dick move, and… I want to give her
back.”

“Okay,” I gritted out.
Calm. Stay calm.
Get Curly back
. “But you broke into my home, David. You’re not
supposed to have another key. You’re lucky I didn’t call the
police.”

“I
know
,” he said, sounding anguished.
“It’s just so strange to see that place and not still consider it
mine too. Look, I totally messed up, and then I panicked and didn’t
know what to do. You don’t have to pay me for any of that stuff.
You were right—I had the chance to pick it up and didn’t. So, what
do you say? Can we meet somewhere? For dinner, maybe? Let me make
it up to you.”

“David,” I barked. My hand was pressed flat
against the door and I stared at it. Funny, really. I focused on my
ring finger. I’d expected to be married by this age. Maybe have
some adopted babies.

“Greg? Are you there?”

I blew out a long breath. I hadn’t remembered
that childhood wish in a long time. David had made me forget. I
squared my shoulders and spoke evenly. “This isn’t going to be a
reconciliation. This isn’t a date. I want my cat back, and then you
and I are going to go our separate ways.”

Another silence fell, and then a long, gusty
sigh came over the line. “Yes, of course. You’re right. Do you want
me to drop her off tonight?”

I didn’t want him back in my home. Not ever.
“Text me your address and I’ll come by right after work.”

“Okay,” David said. “I can do that. And Greg?
Curly’s fine, okay? I’m sorry I made you worry.”

I didn’t think I’d heard a single sorry about
anything from David when we lived together. Maybe he had changed. I
hung up and stared at Carl’s office. A few months ago I would have
been pathetically overjoyed at the thought that David had changed.
I inhaled deeply and lifted my chin. Now I knew, right down to the
marrow of my bones, that it was too little, too late.